My Daughter's Mockingbird
by Saiyan-Princess522
Summary: Bra feels the anguish Vegeta has towards his family for binding him to Earth. She confronts her own demons throughout her childhood into her young adulthood as her father comes to terms with the fact that he may not be able to love his own daughter. The Briefs family is left with decisions to make and dire situations to get out of. Rated M for sex, violence, and vulgarity.


"Daddy?"

"Daddy?"

"DADDY!"

I finally pushed the door to the kitchen open. It was locked because of maintenance workers fixing the sink, and I had to make sure they didn't do anything foolish - and because Bra would mess things up, as usual.

She stood there, mere age of eight, aqua hair in a messy, what do you call it, "bun"? Spitting of her mother she was. Inside I was happy about that, but also a little disappointed that neither of my offspring resembled me like she resembled Bulma. I was staring at her for a while and forgot that she came for something.

"What?" I grumbled. She will never know what I had been thinking about. No one would.

"Trunks is in the Gravity Room by himself and I remember that you told him not to and he's not listening to me and he's being mean and he threatened to take my dolly if I told you -"

Before she could finish, I bolted out of the kitchen, running down the hall towards the GR. I stopped midway through. Forgetting my daughter in a room full of strange men and dangerous tools was not the smartest parenting decision. I ran back and dragged her down with me. The GR was, indeed, running. I peeked in the window and saw my son, the not-mere age of sixteen, working on his uppercuts in the far-left corner.

"Bra," I turned to her, "It would be much to my favor if you went back to your room right now."

"But, Daddy, I think I should -"

"Now!"

She scurried off with her dolly dragging on the ground behind her. I don't usually feel bad about asking my offspring to leave or get out of my face. But recently, I've felt as if Bra isn't going to look up to me the same way Trunks does. She'll probably lean more towards her mother and favor her. What the hell do I care? I didn't sign-up for this.

* * *

It was about ten at night when I walked into the bedroom I shared with Bulma. For the last 17 years I've been intimate with her and I could now recognize when I'm getting something tonight, or if I'm not for a very long time. Shutting the door behind me, I heard a ruffle in the sheets. I turned my head towards the sound and saw a bright flash from the nightstand lamp and the reflection of said light on the left side of her face.

I sighed as she crossed her arms. I put down my gym bag and took off the towel around my neck. Shuffling towards the bathroom, she begins talking, "Bra talked to me today."

I stopped midway in the bathroom doorway. That was the last thing I expected. I was thinking it would be Trunks complaining to her again about my crude and unnecessary behavior towards him. I slid my hand down the door frame slowly, releasing its grip on the white wood and letting it fall to my side. Painfully, I turned my shoulder to the bed and tilted my head to the side to gaze into her eyes with a look of doubt and surprise.

She sat up in the bed and recrossed her arms, "She told me you yelled at her...again." Her expression softened and her raised eyebrow dropped back down, "You can't keep doing that, Vegeta. She's only eight years old. She doesn't know what you mean by when you yell; to her it's all about you hating her."

I broke my silence, "Well, if she only had tougher skin, then this wouldn't be an issue!" I turned my whole body towards my wife, "She's not a Saiyan at heart like Trunks. I try and train her but you want her to be just like an Earth girl - weak and naive!" I grabbed at my hair and turned around, "Do you know how hard it is to sit around and watch as my daughter cries at the sound of the microwave beeping, at the sight of any bug that crawls her way? It's an embarrassment to the race."

Bulma hugged her shoulders, "Babe, the Saiyan race is gone. There's no one to make proud anymore."

"I can't believe you!" I shouted at her, "You don't get to decide if the Saiyan race is gone - they are very much alive in the blood I pass down to Trunks and Bra, and so does Kakarott with Gohan and Goten!"

Bulma reached out to me, "Vegeta, I -"

"No, I'm done."

I stalked out of the room only to pass by my daughter's bedroom on my way to the stairs. I stopped to peek in. She was sitting up, leaning against her pillow, her dolly in her hands. She was playing with the blond locks this doll possessed, stroking it strand by strand. She looked up when she felt my presence. I held contact with her for a few minutes, then continued off into the darkness.

* * *

Tell me if you want more guys! New chapters will be much longer I promise. Just trying to see if there's a chance with this story :)


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